


staring into the sun

by tony_starkrogers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1970's AU, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Captain Stevens/Doctor Potts, M/M, sfw fan art included!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-24 07:17:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19718833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tony_starkrogers/pseuds/tony_starkrogers
Summary: Falling in love is never easy, especially when you're super secret spies in the 1970's.(A Captain Stevens and Doctor Potts AU.)





	staring into the sun

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fic I wanted to write since the first time I saw Endgame - Marvel said "Steve and Tony in the 1970s" and gave us a whole new AU opportunity! 
> 
> This fic would not be possible without ishipallthethings and cptxrogers and their boundless enthusiasm for this AU and for obsessing with me about Captain Stevens and Doctor Potts. This fic is for you!
> 
> Also, many thanks to my betas, Arkuro, Mizzy, and ishipallthethings for spotting errors I never noticed and for discovering that I apparently really love the phrase "of course." xd Thanks for getting this into shape!
> 
> Additional thanks to the amazing artists I commissioned for this work - snowzapped, colonolrogers, and dimaiv-nov. One additional piece will be added to this fic as well, keep an eye out for the new addition and be sure to go show these creators some love!

  
by @dimaiv-nov on tumblr  


“You better stop acting like you’re a hero, Doctor,” Stevens spits, “I know guys with none of that worth ten of you.” 

“That’s rich coming from you,” Potts says. “You’re a laboratory experiment, _Captain_. Everything special about you came out of a bottle.” 

Neither of them back down, each stubbornly refusing to give an inch to the other. The air around them sizzles with energy, and it’s like staring into the sun - they couldn’t look away even if they wanted to.

***

“Captain,” Potts says as he passes Stevens in the halls.

“Doctor,” Stevens replies.

Perfectly polite, not a toe out of line - both of them have learned what happens if they go too far.

***

“So, Captain,” Potts says as they walk out of a meeting. “Apparently they want us to work together.”

Stevens snorts. “Something about too many screaming matches in the mess?”

Potts nods sagely. “Or too much SHIELD property damaged in said fights?” He shakes his head. “Funny how they think that would change even if we did get along.”

“Ridiculous,” Stevens says.

“Absurd,” Potts agrees. “So glad we had this little chat.”

“Likewise,” Stevens says, nodding at him as they reach the elevators. “Doctor.”

“Captain.”

***

“What is this, Doctor?”

“Don’t get prissy on me, Captain. It’s just an update to your uniform, that’s all. You’re a national hero, or so I’m told - we can’t have you go charging into battle with a suit that’s more for style than function.”

“And here I thought you were all about style. I guess I was wrong.”

“The more you know,” Potts quips, resolutely not looking at Stevens.

“Will you stop that?” Stevens snaps. “I’m trying to say thank you.”

“Well then,” Potts says, giving Stevens a small smile. “You’re welcome. Look after it for me, would you?”

***

“Want some company, Captain?” 

“Got all the company I need right here, Doctor, but you’re free to join me if you like. Might even lend you a copy, if you ask nicely.”

“So you’re a Tolkien fan, Cap? Never would have guessed.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Doctor.”

“I’m beginning to get that idea, yes.”

***

“Why do you cut your beard like that?” Stevens asks one day. “It’s ridiculous, but I’m sure you must know that.”

“It’s _distinctive_ ,” Potts says defensively. “It gives me a certain… air of mystery.”

“Oh, is that what you call it? You do know basically everyone at SHIELD calls it a hippie beard.”

“I’ll have you know, this ‘hippie beard’ can give you a very manly beard burn in places you wouldn’t like to think about,” Potts says, glaring.

When Stevens flushes and looks away instead of scoffing, Potts can’t help but raise his eyebrows. 

“Or maybe you _would_ like to think about it. Aren’t you full of surprises, Captain.”

“Do be quiet, Doctor.”

“All right, all right…”

***

“Want to go a few rounds, Cap? Beat out some of that sexual tension we’ve been building up lately? Maybe pin me to the ground with your giant thighs?”

Stevens snorts and rolls his eyes. “If you’re trying to make me uncomfortable, you won’t succeed, Doctor. If you’re here to flirt instead of work, you’re in the wrong place.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Potts says. “No mouthing off in the ring. Now are you going to come at me or what?”

A kick, a huff, a grunt. “Good,” Stevens says, “but you’re telegraphing your intent too much. Have you ever heard of feinting?”

“Like that would ever work on you.”

“True, but it might fool someone else.”

“You’re such a little shit, Stevens,” Potts says, surprised but pleased. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were a straight-laced, all-American, goody two-shoes.”

“Those words all mean the same thing,” Stevens points out. A punch, a muffled grunt, the hard slap of skin against skin.

“Damn. Those muscles aren’t just for show. One more round?”

“You never know when to give up, do you, Doctor?”

“It’s part of my winning charm,” Potts says as he circles Stevens, his eyes sharp and calculating. “Be honest, would you like me so much if I did?”

“Who says I like you now?”

“Oh, that’s cold, Captain, even from you.”

Stevens just shakes his head and knocks him to the ground with a spinning twist. Potts tries to roll out from under him, but Stevens merely grunts and pins him in place, straddling his waist.

“Is this what you wanted, Doctor?” Stevens asks, leaning in close. “Me pinning you to the ground? You know, you talk a big game, but I think you secretly like it, letting someone else be in control.”

Potts lets out a strangled curse, arching into Stevens’ hardness, but the Captain refuses to move an inch. “God,” Potts breathes, his head falling back. His skin is on fire everywhere they touch, and Stevens is so _close_ , not to mention gloriously sweaty and disheveled, his hair falling into his face as he stares at Potts with that piercing gaze.

“Not quite - it’s _Captain_ ,” Stevens says, tightening his grip on Potts’ wrists. “Do you yield?”

Potts gasps, struggles a bit, but that only makes clear how very close they both are to the edge.

“Yield,” he says, and Stevens rolls off of him and gets to his feet.

“Well,” Stevens says, brisk and business-like as he offers Potts a hand. “With a bit more practice, you could be quite good.”

Potts snorts. “Why thank you, Captain, that’s high praise coming from you.”

Stevens nods at him. “Doctor,” he says, “good match.”

He strides away, his back ramrod straight, not looking back.

Potts is left staring after him, wondering what the _hell_ just happened. There’s something in the way Stevens was holding himself - his posture too precise, his voice too even - that makes Potts think he wasn’t quite as unaffected as he seemed.

***

“Did you get the plans?” Stevens asks, grabbing Potts’ arm as they run down the hallways, picking up speed as they hear muffled shouts and doors slamming behind them.

“Of course I did, what do you take me for?” Potts grumbles, glancing over his shoulder. “They don’t sound like they’re too happy about it, unfortunately for us.”

“Here, this way,” Stevens says, slamming through a door that leads them out to the back alley. The shouting grows louder behind them and Stevens looks around desperately. They’ve come so far, they just got the plans to the Hydra base they’ve been wanting to find for _months_ , they can’t afford to be caught now. “Damn it, we need to _hide_.”

“Language!” Potts reminds him, his face flushed, his eyes bright.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Stevens says, pulling them down the alley.

“Don’t be like that, it was _funny_!” Potts protests, whirling as the door bangs open behind them and guards spill out, spreading in every direction.

“Doctor?” Stevens says very evenly, trying not to let his voice shake. “There’s nowhere to hide.”

Potts looks up at him, and for a second, Stevens sees an echo of his own panic staring back at him through the other man’s eyes, before Potts takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Screw that, we don’t give up that easy,” he declares, grabbing Stevens’ hand and pulling him around the corner. “You’re the Captain, think of something.”

“Okay, fuck,” Stevens says as they stumble into a pile of crates stacked up in the alley. “Here.” He pushes Potts back and hides them both behind the crates. His heart is pounding in his chest, his skin is thrumming with nervous energy, and he is out of options, out of time. Stevens hesitates as he looks down at Potts, and he recalls another mission, another attempt at distraction when he was certain he was done for.

“There is one option,” he says. “Do you trust me?”

“I do,” Potts answers instantly. “Stevens, what…”

“Kiss me,” Stevens says, crowding Potts against the wall.

  
by @snowzapped on tumblr  


“I… what?” Potts sputters. His jaw goes slack, his eyes wild as a flash of anger crosses his face. “If this is some kind of joke…”

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” Stevens says, his voice low and desperate as the footsteps grow louder and closer. “ _Kiss me._ ”

Potts’ mouth snaps shut. His gaze hardens with determination, and then his hand is curling around Stevens’ neck, his eyes searching Stevens’ face. “All right, you asked for this,” Potts says, and then he pulls Stevens down, closing the space between them.

Potts’ lips are warm against his, if slightly chapped, and Stevens melts against him, sighing into the kiss. His fingers dive into Potts’ hair to hold him close, and Potts moans, arching into him. Potts nips at his lower lip, traces the seam of his lips with his tongue, changes the angle as their tongues tangle together.

The guards race past them, barely giving a second glance to the two men wrapped up in each other in a back alley. Their footsteps fade into the distance, but Potts doesn’t pull away, and Stevens couldn’t if he tried. Kissing Potts like this feels natural, easy in a way it’s never been with anyone else, and in that moment, Stevens is certain he’s never wanted anyone as much as he wants Potts, not ever.

When they finally break apart, it’s by degrees, as they lean against each other, sharing each other’s air. Stevens’ eyes drink Potts in, his gaze following the sharp edge of his cheekbone, the dusting of stubble on his jaw, the line of his throat as he swallows. Potts leans back against the wall, his chest heaving as he gulps in the cool night air.

“They’re gone,” he says, waving in the direction the guards ran, “thanks to some interesting tactics, Captain.” He gives Stevens a narrow look.

Stevens shifts uncomfortably, his face flushing as he avoids Potts’ gaze. “It worked, didn’t it?” he says defensively. 

“That it did,” Potts says, patting his jacket pocket. “We got what we came for.”

“Then let’s go home, Doctor,” Stevens says, tucking his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out for Potts. He’s not sure he can resist the temptation much longer.

***

Stevens doesn’t see Potts for a week after the kiss.

This is nothing unusual in itself, but Stevens has come to realize that there is a distinct difference between the times when Potts is simply in the zone in the workshop, or when he’s hiding in the workshop because he’s mad. Considering what just happened between them, he has a hunch that this time it’s the latter.

Stevens tries not to let it get to him - this is Potts, after all, and he is bothered by strange and unexpected things. He just wishes that he could _talk_ to Potts about whatever it is about kissing Stevens that has Potts so worked up that he won’t even _see_ him. But Stevens has enough experience to know that it’s never a good idea to force an issue with Potts - trying just makes it worse. The best he can do now is to grit his teeth and bear it.

So one night, he wanders down to the bar just on the outskirts of town. It’s crowded that night, beer and talk flowing freely as the bass pounds through the walls. Stevens settles down with a drink and watches the ice cubes chase each other around the glass. Even though he can’t get drunk anymore, thanks to the serum, maybe he can quiet his racing thoughts for a while.

It’s there that Potts finds him in the early hours of the morning, sitting in a quiet corner as he stares morosely into a half-empty tumbler of beer.

“Look who it is, the Captain!” Potts says, clapping him on the shoulder as he pulls up a chair.

Stevens gives him a narrow look. “Don’t be like that, _Doctor_ ,” he says. “We’re all friends here. At least, I thought we were.”

Potts leans back, affronted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Stevens snorts, shakes his head. “I haven’t seen you in a week, Potts. A week! What was I supposed to think?”

“I was _working_!” Potts says. “Look, you know what they’re gearing up for, I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors… I’ve been busy, we all have!”

“Yeah, we can all be busy when we want to be,” Stevens mutters, draining the rest of his glass in one.

“I’m sorry?” Potts says, his eyes flashing.

“You heard me,” Stevens replies, his voice hard as he meets the other man’s gaze.

The moment freezes in place as they stare at each other across the table, neither of them backing down. Then Stevens sighs and runs a hand over his face, his shoulders slumping in defeat. This is Potts, after all, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t stay angry at Potts for long. His friendship is too important - it’s the one constant in their crazy life. Even if Stevens is the only one who wants something more, he won’t risk losing Potts over it.

“Just… tell me what I did wrong, that you don’t want anything to do with me,” he says tiredly. “If I went too far, if I want too much and I made you uncomfortable… tell me. I’ll fix it, I’ll step back, just… you mean too much to me, Potts. Tell me, please.”

He looks up to see Potts staring at him, his mouth open and eyes wide. He frowns, and Potts holds up a hand. “Give me a minute,” he says. Stevens waits as Potts opens his mouth, closes it. When he meets Stevens’ gaze, confusion is written all over his face.

“But… there was a mission,” Potts says. “There was a mission, you kissed me because of the mission… and now you’re saying that you want… what? You’ll have to help me out, Cap, because I’m a little confused here.”

Stevens stares at him, his jaw slack as his mind fits the pieces together. Surely Potts can’t have thought… oh, _God_ . If Potts thought that Stevens didn’t _want_ to kiss him, that he only did it for the mission… Stevens feels a little sick at the thought. Suddenly, his friend’s stony silence and abrupt retreat to the workshop make much more sense.

“ _Potts_ ,” he says, low and agonized, “it wasn’t just because of the mission. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a long time. The mission was just a good excuse for it. Besides, we’d been flirting for months! What did you think that was?”

Potts blinks, surprised. “I thought that was just our thing? People flirt all the time.”

Stevens looks away, his face flushing. “Not me,” he says, brutally honest. “Not ever.”

His friend’s eyes widen. “You mean to say that was your first kiss… ever?” he asks, shock clear in his voice. “God, _Stevens…_ ”

“ _Please_ don’t jump to conclusions, Doctor. I _have_ kissed before,” Stevens says, his voice tight. “But it was obviously a bad one, so if we can please just forget about it…”

“I don’t want to forget it,” Potts blurts, and Stevens stares at him in surprise. 

“I want this too,” Potts says quietly. “I’ve wanted it since… I don’t know, actually. Probably around the same time I stopped hating your guts and started realizing that hey, this is someone I want to know.” Stevens snorts, and Potts’ mouth twitches in response. “I didn’t know you felt the same way.”

“I did,” Stevens says, meeting his gaze. “I do.”

Potts smiles, and for a moment, they just look at each other, drinking each other in. Stevens feels strangely off-balance, as if the axis of his world is shifting, re-orienting everything he is around this moment. He wonders if Potts feels the same. As they gaze at each other, his friend’s eyes soften, and Stevens thinks that he just might.

“Well then,” Potts says, “what do you say we close your tab and call it a night? I’ll get you home - we don’t have to do anything, I just want to get you home safe. Maybe even take care of you, if you’ll let me.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Stevens says, “but if you think you’re going anywhere, think again. I want you to stay.”

Potts smiles at him, soft and wondering. “Okay,” he says, “I’ll stay.”

*** 

They make it back to Stevens’ apartment in the early hours of the morning, when the sky is still dark and the moon is shining high above them. The door clicks shut and Stevens gives him a small smile.“It’s not much, but it’s something,” Stevens says.

He heads into the kitchen and flips the switch, Potts looking around with interest as he trails behind. It’s a small space, but there are touches of Stevens everywhere he looks, from the radio on the counter to the bookshelf full of books and the easel set up in the corner.

Stevens turns on the tap and fills up a glass. “I’d ask if you’d like some coffee,” he says, raising an eyebrow, “but I’m reasonably certain you don’t need any more right now.”

Potts snorts, shakes his head. “You know me so well.”

Stevens leans against the counter as he takes a sip from the glass. His throat bobs, muscles flexing and contracting, and Potts feels a sudden rush of heat, his breath loud in his ears. He tries not to stare, but he’s only human, and Stevens is a beautiful man.

“This is _not_ how I imagined this night would go,” he hears himself say distantly as blood rushes in his ears.

“But you did… imagine it?” Stevens asks, his voice small and uncertain.

“ _Yes_ ,” Potts says, closing the distance between them in an instant until Stevens is in his arms, pulling him close. “You don’t know what you do to me… I look at you and I feel hot all over. You make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. God, it’s terrifying.”

“It’s the same for me,” Stevens says, his eyes dark, desire written all over his face. “Always has been.”

Potts shudders and forces himself to look away. “You make it hard for me to keep my hands to myself,” he grits out.

“Then _don’t_ ,” Stevens says, and then they’re kissing, hard and passionate. Their lips slide together, tongues tangling and teeth clacking as they try to get even closer. It’s graceless and desperate, but no less addictive, both of them struggling to get each other out of their clothes without breaking the kiss. Stevens tugs his shirt out of his pants and Potts lets out a muffled curse as he fumbles with the buttons of Stevens’ shirt with trembling fingers.

“I used to be good at this, you know,” he says, and Stevens laughs against him, breathless and giddy.

“Then you have the advantage,” Stevens says, cupping his face in his hands and kissing him gently once, twice, three times. “I never was.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Potts says, shivering as he chases after another kiss, but Stevens keeps tantalizingly out of reach, his touches feather-light, a whisper against Potts’ heated skin. 

Stevens smiles down at him, his eyes soft as he strokes the curve of Potts’ bottom lip with his thumb. “Never found the right partner.”

Potts covers Stevens’ hand with his own, his heart pounding in his chest. He’s never been so terrified, but it’s the good kind, the best. “And now?” he asks.

Stevens squeezes his hand, tangling their fingers together as he leads him to the bedroom.

“Let’s find out.”

***

Potts wakes the next morning to sunlight streaming through the open windows and Stevens’ arm thrown across his waist. He breathes deep and smiles as he turns into Stevens’ embrace, snuggling into his warmth. Stevens grumbles, his brows pinching as Potts mouths at the hinge of his jaw.

“Slept a while,” Potts says, his voice still hoarse as Stevens blinks awake.

Stevens smiles, taking Potts’ face in his hands and kissing him gently. “Why Doctor,” he says, light and teasing, “did I wear you out?”

Potts laughs, delighted, and kisses Stevens hard and fast, leaving them breathless. “Far from it, _Captain_ ,” he says, smiling as Stevens rolls his eyes. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to try that we didn’t get to last night. I’m hoping you’ll indulge me.”

“Oh?” Stevens raises his eyebrows, and instead of answering, Potts slides down his body with intent, pressing a line of wet kisses down his sternum until he settles between Stevens’ legs. “ _Oh_ ,” Stevens breathes, his hands clutching desperately at the sheets. “Yes.”

Potts smiles and takes Stevens in hand, stroking him hard and firm from base to tip. Stevens moans and his head falls back against the bed, mouth open and gasping. “ _Please_ ,” he moans, and Potts kisses him, deep and dirty.

“Please what?” Potts says, teasing, only realizing that he has made a grave tactical error when Stevens narrows his eyes at him before canting his hips and locking his legs around his waist to roll them over in one swift move. Potts is left breathless as Stevens seals his lips with his own, plundering his mouth with his tongue.

“You know exactly what I want,” Stevens says, his voice dark with desire when they come up for air. “I want your mouth. I want you to get me nice and hard, and then I want to pound you into the mattress so hard that you’ll feel it for days. Is that an acceptable plan, Doctor?”

It’s so clearly a challenge that Potts laughs in surprise before flipping them over again and settling between Stevens’ legs.

“Well, they don’t call you a tactical genius for nothing, Captain,” he says, and Stevens rolls his eyes.

Then Potts takes Stevens into his mouth, and no one’s joking anymore. Potts takes as much of Stevens as he can, hollowing his cheeks and sliding down, squeezing the base experimentally and swirling his tongue on the way up. Stevens’ breath hitches and his fingers clench the sheets as Potts sucks lightly on the head, tonguing the slit and savoring the taste of him, bitter and musky. Stevens lets out a broken moan, his thighs trembling. Potts lets his eyes flutter closed and loses himself in the sensation, working his way up and down until Stevens is gasping beneath him and pulling at his hair.

Potts pulls off and lets Stevens tug him back up, his hands roaming hungrily over every bit of skin he can reach as he draws him in. Stevens kisses him deeply and deliberately, coaxing Potts’ lips open and tonguing him loose and pliant. Potts shivers, trembling all over, and Stevens rolls until Potts is beneath him, spreading his legs as Stevens settles above him. Stevens kisses him and runs his palm gently down his stomach as he reaches for the little tube of lube on the nightstand. The first slide of Stevens’ fingers inside of Potts leaves him gasping, gripping at his shoulders and scrabbling for purchase.

“All right?” Stevens asks, his breath cool against Potts’ heated skin, his other hand rubbing soothingly at the inside of his thigh.

Potts breathes, lets his body adjust. “Fine,” he nods, his fingers tracing the curve of Stevens’ jaw, the line of his collarbone, the hardened muscles of his shoulders. “More?”

Stevens’ eyes darken and he adds another finger, working Potts open in earnest. The burn is delicious, enough to set him on fire and yet leaving him still aching for more. Potts grinds down, seeking the friction he needs, and Stevens grunts, crooking his fingers until Potts is moaning and writhing against him.

“I’m ready,” he gasps desperately, drawing Stevens into a messy kiss. “I’m ready, _please…_ ”

“Okay,” Stevens says, his voice broken and shaking with desire. “Okay.” He cups Potts’ face in his hands and kisses him gently. “Do we need anything? I’m clean, but I understand if you want to…”

“I’m clean too,” Potts says, covering Stevens’ hands with his own. “Besides, I’d rather feel you, if that’s all right. Just you.”

Stevens smiles, his thumb lightly stroking Potts’ temple as he gazes down with this _look_ in his eyes, like he can’t quite believe he gets to have this, like Potts is the most important thing in his world. 

“I can do that,” Stevens says, as he spreads Potts’ legs and lines himself up. Stevens presses in, the first tight slide slow, agonizingly slow, as he forces himself to take his time, his thighs trembling with the effort as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” Potts gasps, and Stevens smiles, brushing his hair back from his forehead. 

“That is the plan,” he says, startling a laugh out of Potts as he begins to move, slow but earnest, the beginning of an inexorable rhythm.

Potts lets his head fall back as pleasure overtakes him, every nerve igniting as Stevens pounds into him again and again. Potts arches into it, instinctive and needy, and they both groan as he meets the slow thrusts, and then they’re moving in tandem, rocking together as they climb higher. The next roll of Stevens’ hips hits Potts deep inside, and he cries out, fingers twisting in the sheets as stars spark behind his eyes.

“Please,” he moans, his hands flailing, seeking something to hold on to, to anchor him as he spirals. “I’m so close, _please_ …”

“I’ve got you,” Stevens murmurs, twining their fingers together and gripping tight, kissing him deep and dirty as he brings Potts over the edge. “I’ve got you, you can let go,” he says, and Potts comes untouched, shuddering and gasping as he spills between them. Stevens lets out a muffled curse and his hips jerk once, twice before Potts feels Stevens pulsing inside him, giving him everything he has.

Stevens collapses against him, and Potts pulls him close as he gasps for breath, his heart racing in his chest.

It takes a long time to come down, wrapped up in each other as they are. As they trade soft kisses, their hands roam over each other, gentle and quiet, each learning the shape of the other’s body and reveling in the closeness.

“Well,” Stevens says when they finally come up for air, “that was swell.”

Potts chuckles. “It was indeed,” he says, carding his fingers through Stevens’ hair. “Maybe we could do it again some time?”

Stevens smiles, and it changes his whole face, like sunlight breaking through the clouds. “I’d like that,” he says, “just not right now. I’m basking.” 

He kisses Potts once more, light and chaste, before settling in, snaking an arm around his waist and twining their legs together.

“We should probably clean up,” Potts offers, half-heartedly wiping up some of the mess between them with the sheet. He really has no inclination to move just yet.

Stevens grunts into his skin, waving a hand vaguely. “Later,” he says, before stilling, his breath evening out once more.

Potts feels his heart thump unsteadily in his chest as he looks down at Stevens, and he swallows tight. He still can’t quite believe that he’s really here, that they made it this far and Stevens still seems to want this, to want _him_. It seems almost unimaginable, and yet here they are.

He smooths his palm down Stevens’ back, holding him close as he lets himself drift off to the sound of his quiet, even breaths. No one is going anywhere just yet.

***

Stevens wakes for a second time that morning still tangled in the sheets, the room around him bathed in sunlight as cool air filters through the open windows. He knows he’s alone, and the thought sends a fleeting irrational rush of panic through him as he blinks up at the ceiling before his enhanced hearing picks up on the quiet sounds of someone puttering around in the kitchen. He smiles, stretching languidly as the memories overtake him: their bodies moving as one, their fingers twined together, the _noises_ Potts had made as he begged for more. 

God, he wants to do it again.

The thought slams into him, leaving him breathless. Once, he might have pushed the idea deep down, hiding it under the veneer of being valued colleagues, and good friends. Now, he breathes deep, knowing that he can sink into his feelings and be claimed by them, and let himself really feel just how much he wants this man.

He wants everything that Potts will give him.

The idea should terrify him, but instead, it feels exhilarating. They could really have this, now. They could do whatever they wanted.

Stevens smiles and rolls out of bed, heading to the bathroom and stepping into the shower, letting the water wash over him. He can still feel the echoes of last night thrumming through his veins - his muscles feel pleasantly heavy, a delicious ache in all the right ways. He smiles and switches off the spray.

Potts is still in the kitchen when Stevens walks in, making what looks like an omelet. Grinning, Stevens wraps his arms around Potts’ waist, kissing down his neck and breathing him in.

“You cooked,” he says, his hands running up Potts’ stomach, tweaking at a nipple.

Potts’ breath hitches in his throat and he covers Stevens’ hand with his own, threading their fingers together easily. He turns his head, and Stevens kisses him, quiet and chaste.

Potts smiles into the kiss and nudges Stevens’ nose gently. “Can’t say how edible it will be,” he says, frowning down at the omelet, which seems to be smoking a little, blackening at the edge. Potts nudges it half-heartedly with the spatula before switching off the burner. “But I tried.”

He turns in Stevens’ arms and captures his lips in a kiss, pulling him close and spreading his legs, inviting Stevens to step between them. Stevens smiles against his lips and hitches Potts up until he’s sitting on the counter, his legs wrapping around Stevens’ waist. There’s no urgency in the long kisses they share, just a lot of simple, uncomplicated warmth and enjoyment as both of them revel in the closeness.

“Mmmm,” Potts sighs, pulling away with a lingering suck to Stevens’ lower lip. He looks gloriously disheveled, with spots of color high on his cheeks, and Stevens can’t resist running his fingers through his curling hair.

Potts shivers, leaning into the touch. “The eggs are getting cold,” he mumbles, a little breathless. Stevens raises his eyebrows, and Potts laughs, stealing another kiss before they pull apart. 

On some level, Stevens had thought that it might get awkward. He had been worried that they wouldn’t know what to say to each other, that it would feel stilted and awful and that they would eventually slide back into being friends because they didn’t know how to be _more_. 

But it’s nothing like he thought it would be - it’s _better_. 

Their morning is as normal as anyone could imagine. They sit across from each other, eating and talking about Potts’ new projects, and an idea Stevens has for a new earpiece that would carry a secure signal directly to Potts’ workshop. For official purposes only, of course. 

It’s simple and easy, like dozens of meals they’ve shared before - except this time, their legs are tangled under the table. Stevens is so happy he feels as though he could burst, and he couldn’t stop smiling if he tried.

“Well,” Potts says, pushing his plate away with a regretful sigh, “at least it was _mostly_ edible.”

“Then you’ll have to come over often,” Stevens offers, smiling at him. “I’m told repeatability is the key to any good experiment.”

Potts laughs in surprise, pushing away from the table and settling down in Stevens’ lap. “Why Captain,” he says, “I don’t know if you’re talking dirty or talking science, but I like it.”

Stevens pulls him in, and for long minutes, the only sounds in the small apartment are the soft slide of their lips and their muffled moans as they lose themselves in each other. When they finally come up for air, they are both a little breathless, their eyes hungry as they take each other in.

“What should we do today?” Stevens asks, his eyes soft as his fingers gently trace the line of the other man’s collarbone.

“Well, to be honest, I was hoping we’d go back to your room,” Potts says, his voice low and husky as he grinds down on Stevens’ lap.

Stevens’ fingers tighten on Potts’ waist and he moans, low and wanting. God, it’s been mere hours since they were together in his bed, and already he needs it again. Somehow, Potts has brought him from zero to sixty in a few short seconds, and he can’t stop it, he doesn’t _want_ to stop it. He wants _more_ . He _needs_ it like he needs to breathe, desire thrumming through his veins, just as necessary and just as desperate.

Potts grins like he knows exactly what this is doing to Stevens, his breath ghosting teasingly across Stevens’ lips. Stevens tries to chase after him, tries to capture those lips with his own, but Potts keeps just out of reach as he smiles down at him.

“I was hoping I could convince you to stay there all day,” Potts continues, his skilled fingers working at the buttons of Stevens’ shirt. “I’m told I can be _very_ persuasive.”

Stevens lets out a broken moan as Potts’ lips close around a nipple, working it to a hardened peak as his fingers play with the other.

“What do you say, soldier?” Potts asks as he looks up at him, his eyes dark with desire.

Stevens groans, sealing the other man’s lips with his own. He slides his hands under Potts’ legs, hitching him close as he stands up in one smooth move, carrying Potts to the bedroom.

“Damn,” Potts breathes, his pupils blown wide. “I didn’t know you could do that. Did you know you could do that? God, you are so hot right now, you have no idea.”

Stevens dumps him unceremoniously on the bed and lets out a noise of frustration as he climbs on top of him. “Do be quiet, Doctor,” he says, taking Potts’ face in his hands and kissing him within an inch of his life, leaving him gasping and breathless. Potts stares up at him and Stevens smiles, tracing the shape of his lips with his thumb.

“You were saying?” Stevens asks, quirking a brow.

Potts opens his mouth, and closes it again, looking vaguely like he’s been hit over the head with a bat. He shakes his head and pulls Stevens in. Stevens smiles into the kiss, thinking that he now knows one good way to leave the doctor speechless.

***

Of course, life doesn’t stand still just because you realize that everything you’ve been searching for has been at your side all along.

They both need to go back to headquarters the next day, and the return to the real world is harder than Stevens imagined. The weekend had been pure bliss, like something out of a dream. They were good for each other - they fit together like puzzle pieces, like they were always meant for this.

But life goes on, and as they suit up, they know they have to put their personal feelings aside, because they have a job to do.

“Captain,” Fury says as he regards Stevens from behind his desk. “SHIELD has a new mission for you.”

“Sir?”

“We have intel that HYDRA may be attempting to re-create a version of the superserum using the same technology that transformed you,” Fury says, his voice hard. “Needless to say, we cannot allow them to be successful. That is where you come in.”

He hands Stevens a slim dossier, flipping it open to a page showing a map of a HYDRA base.

“We’ve used the information you and Doctor Potts recovered to formulate an infiltration plan to get you into the base. Your mission is to confirm our intel and to sabotage their plans in any way you can.”

Stevens nods, flipping through the folder and commuting it to memory. It’s dangerous, but it makes sense. It’s what he would do in Fury’s place.

“And my team, sir?” he asks. “Who else will be assigned to this mission?”

Fury eyes him impassively. “This is a solo mission, Captain,” he says. “Deep cover. We want to attract as little attention to ourselves as possible. I trust I do not have to communicate to you the seriousness of the situation.”

Stevens opens his mouth, closes it again. He has always worked better with a team and Fury knows that. The idea of a solo mission goes against everything he is, but orders are orders, and he knows SHIELD wouldn’t ask this of him if it weren’t important.

“Sir,” he says, “when do I leave?”

“Nightfall,” Fury tells him. “Use this time to prepare, won’t you?”

To make his farewells, he doesn’t say. Stevens may be a supersoldier, but he knows that every time he goes up against HYDRA may be his last.

Stevens nods. “Sir.”

“Dismissed,” Fury says. “And Captain… good luck.”

When it comes down to it, there’s really only one place he wants to go. Stevens heads down to the workshop to find Potts slumped over the desk, his head pillowed on his arms and his mouth open as he snuffles in his sleep.

Stevens smiles and his heart clenches painfully in his chest at the sight. For a fleeting moment, he wishes that he could stay, that Potts would beg him not to go, but Stevens knows that he wouldn’t. This is the life they have chosen, for better or worse, and they both know this.

He feels a nudge at his elbow and looks down to see DUM-E next to him with a mug of coffee held in his claw. Stevens chuckles, taking the mug and patting the bot gently. “You’re right, he probably would like some right about now,” he says. “Thanks, partner.” He sets the mug down and runs his fingers through Potts’ curling hair.

“Hey there, Doctor,” Stevens says, smiling as Potts blinks up at him, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “DUM-E thought you might need some coffee.”

“Mmm, he’s right about that,” Potts says, pulling Stevens down into a kiss, long and lingering. He pulls back and frowns, taking in Stevens’ appearance - the stealth suit, the shield on his back.

“You’re going somewhere,” he realizes. “New mission?”

Stevens nods. “Solo mission,” he confirms, and Potts narrows his eyes.

“I see,” he says. “Well, I can’t let you go without this.” He hands Stevens a small rectangular device with a single red switch. “Think of it like a flash grenade but far more efficient,” Potts tells him. “Flick the switch and it should knock out everyone in a fifty-yard range, give you time to get out quickly if you need to.”

Stevens smiles, remembering their conversation at the breakfast table. “You took my idea and ran with it. I wasn’t expecting it so soon. Potts, this is amazing - really, thank you.”

“Thank me by bringing it back in one piece, Captain,” Potts says, and Stevens hears what he doesn’t say - _come back to me_. 

“I will,” Stevens says. “You know I…”

Potts stops him by drawing him close once more, his lips coaxing Stevens’ open, gentle and sweet. Stevens sighs when they finally break apart, resting their foreheads together as he breathes Potts in.

“I know,” Potts says, his gaze soft. “You can tell me when you get back, okay?”

Stevens takes a deep breath, nodding against him. He didn’t think it would be this hard, going on a mission without Potts, but it feels like he’s leaving some essential part of himself behind.

“Okay,” he says pulling away with a final kiss. “I should probably be going.”

Potts smiles. “You got this, Captain,” he says.

“I know,” Stevens replies. He swallows tight, hesitating before he makes up his mind, reaching around his neck to draw out his dog tags. He doesn’t know if it’s too soon for this, if it’s too much… but it feels right. He wants to leave some piece of himself with Potts, something to remind the Doctor that he will come back to him. “Take these for me? Keep them safe until I come back.”

Potts blinks frantically, his eyes going misty as his fingers tighten around the dog tags. He lets out a choked noise and pulls Stevens in, kissing him desperately.

“I feel like a damn war bride,” Potts says, sniffling when they come up for air. “Just come back, Stevens, that’s all I need. Just come back.”

“I will,” Stevens promises. “I will.”

***

Life without Stevens is less epically tragic than Potts imagined, but no less unbearable as he finds new and interesting ways to miss the Captain each day.

He knew they wouldn’t be able to communicate unless an emergency demanded it, so he knows that this silence from Stevens is not at all unusual. He is not _worried_ , because he knows better. Stevens is a good agent, the best. He knows what he’s doing.

Besides, he promised he’d come home, and Stevens is not one to break his promises.

Potts decides to use this time to get some work done. It’s true that the workshop is very quiet without Stevens there snarking and nagging him, but that’s fine, because now Potts finally has some time to himself.

He used to be down here by himself all the time, after all - it’s his natural element. Before Stevens casually inserted himself into every facet of Potts’ life, he would often stay in the workshop for days on end and lose himself in his work. He doesn’t know why it would be any different now.

He certainly doesn’t _miss_ Stevens - that would be ridiculous, even if they weren’t… lovers? Friends with benefits? Partners?

Potts doesn’t know what they _are_ to each other, and that’s the problem - they never talked about it, not really. All of the labels Potts tries and discards feel woefully inadequate, but he can’t make sense of it on his own. He wants Stevens here - he _needs_ him to be his rock, his anchor, his opposite.

Okay. Maybe he does miss Stevens. Just a little.

He misses the way Stevens comes down to the workshop and bothers Potts when he needs to be bothered, taking him out of his head for a while. He misses their shared meals in the officer’s mess, their legs bumping completely accidentally under the table as Stevens tells him about the book he’s been reading and Potts talks about his latest projects. He misses the times he comes out of work to find Stevens passed out on the couch in the corner, his sketchbook clutched to his chest as he snuffles in his sleep.

 _Dammit_ , Potts thinks, tossing his screwdriver to the side and putting his head in his hands. He doesn’t know when it happened, but he’s in over his head and the person he most wants to see isn’t there. He won’t get anything done at this rate, and he knows it.

Potts sighs and picks up the phone.

The line rings once before there’s an answer, a brisk “Colonel Rhodes, what can I do for you,” and Potts breathes a sigh of relief.

“It’s Potts,” he says. “Look, I know it’s late, but could I come over? I just… I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Of course,” Rhodey says after a brief pause.

“Thank you,” Potts says fervently. “Really. I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

***

Rhodey being Rhodey, he takes one look at Potts and knows exactly what’s wrong.

“This is about Stevens, isn’t it?” he asks almost as soon as he opens the door.

Potts frowns at him and pushes past his friend to make a beeline for his favorite tattered armchair in the corner. “Now why would you assume that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rhodey says, bringing over a tub of chocolate ice cream with a spoon. “Maybe because he’s all you’ve been talking about for months, and now no one’s seen him around the base for days?”

Potts stares at him open-mouthed and his friend raises an eyebrow, holding out the ice cream.

“News travels fast,” Rhodey explains, and Potts shakes his head, taking the spoon and digging in with gusto.

“Apparently,” he says. “Okay, that _might_ be why I’m here.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rhodey asks, his voice soft.

Potts is silent for a moment, focusing on his ice cream and avoiding his friend’s knowing gaze.

“It’s stupid to worry, right?” he says at last. “I mean, it won’t help anything. He knows what he’s doing, I know that better than anyone, it’s just….”

He shakes his head, and Rhodey reaches out to grip his shoulder. “You care about him,” Rhodey says gently. “You’re worried, it’s only natural.”

Potts nods, sniffing and rubbing angrily at his eyes as he feels unfamiliar emotions welling up inside him.

“Well, shit,” he says, his shoulders heaving. “Is this how you feel every time Danvers is away on her own? I’m not sure it’s worth it.”

“Don’t think like that,” Rhodey says, shaking his head. “What we have when we’re together… it’s worth it. Everything is worth it.”

He gives Potts a narrow look. “Something happened between you two, didn’t it? Something’s different.”

Potts gives him a watery smile. “You know me so well,” he says. “We were together for one day, and it was… amazing. Perfect. And then he was sent away.” Potts blinks furiously, clutching at the dog tags through his shirt. “And it wouldn’t bother me so much, except we’ve become a team. We’re good together. And now he’s out on his own, and it feels _wrong_ , and I’m just… worried.”

Rhodey shakes his head with a low whistle. “Well, I won’t deny that sounds like a rough hand,” he says, “but you have to remember, Stevens is a good agent. He’ll be back, trust me on that.”

Potts breathes deep and nods. “I know that,” he says. “Really, I do. I just… I think I had to hear someone else say it, you know?”

His friend smiles, and there is no judgment in his gaze, only understanding. “I get that,” he says. “Now quit your pining and eat your ice cream, Doctor.”

“Sir, yes sir!” Potts says, raising his spoon with amusement. He still feels worry deep in his chest, but he feels like he can breathe past it now, like he’s been given a breath of fresh air.

He knows that Stevens will come home. He just has to keep believing in it.

***

Life goes on, and so does Potts, taking each day as it comes. He keeps working, he keeps inventing. He doesn’t give up, because he knows that’s not what Stevens would want to find if - _when_ \- he comes back. Besides, he’s never been good at idly waiting.

So he keeps going, tries to ignore the part of himself that is always looking for the space where Stevens used to be, and he learns to think of each new day with no news as a blessing. In this business, no news is good news.

But then comes the day when Director Carter bursts into his office unannounced, her face flushed and her hair a mess.

“Have you heard?” she asks, breathless, and when Potts just stares at her, she huffs and rushes to fumble with his radio.

There’s a rush of static, and then Potts catches snatches as Peggy stands beside him, covering her mouth with a shaking hand: “massive explosion in the early morning” … “thought to be a HYDRA base of operations” … “burned to the ground” … “survivors… unknown.”

The signal flares and fades into static, leaving the two of them staring at each other in shock.

Peggy swallows. “I heard the news, and I thought…”

“Stevens,” Potts breathes, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Damn it. You don’t think…”

“I don’t know,” Carter says, gritting her teeth, “and I don’t like not knowing.”

Potts shakes his head, sinking back in his chair as he scrubs a hand over his eyes. “This is Stevens we’re talking about,” he says. “If anyone could get out of there alive, he could.”

Peggy nods and covers his hand with her own, both of them holding on tight to hide their trembling. “I’ll send search parties out right away,” she says. “We’ll find him.”

“We’ll find him,” Potts agrees, because the alternative… he can’t even imagine it, he _refuses_ to imagine it. Potts knows without a doubt that if their positions were reversed, Stevens would not give up on him, and he doesn’t plan to give up on Stevens, not for one second. 

He won’t give up hope. He _can’t_.

Potts lets out a shaky breath, feeling the dog tags against his chest like a weight around his neck. _Keep them safe until I come back_ , Stevens had said before he left, his smile warm and his eyes soft with a look that was just for Potts. 

Stevens couldn’t be gone, Potts thought. He’d be back - he _promised_. And Stevens never broke his promises.

***

They don’t find him.

The search parties go out first thing, and Potts goes with them, because he _knows_ Stevens like the back of his hand. Potts knows him better than anyone - he knows how Stevens thinks, he knows exactly what he would do if he were on the run.

But they comb the area, sending teams to investigate every inch of the explosion site, and they find absolutely nothing. There’s no trace of Stevens - it’s as if he were never there.

They search the surrounding woods, in case he somehow escaped the explosion, but there is nothing, and the terrified locals haven’t seen anyone.

So Potts goes back to the drawing board, because he refuses to give up, even if the search has been called off and Stevens is now officially MIA, because MIA is not _dead_ . There is still hope, there is _always_ hope.

That’s something else Stevens taught him.

Days go by with no news, no leads. Potts sleeps less and less. He spends day after day in the workshop, going over everything, looking for some new angle, some clue they might have missed. He works through the pain, because he knows that a few sleepless nights will hurt less than dreams of the future he might have had, dreams of a man he’s starting to fear he might never see again.

Then Peggy comes to see him again, her face grim and her lips set.

“I got the forms today,” she says. “I can hold off a little longer, but one can only be ‘missing’ for so long before…” she trails off, her voice breaking. “There are still rules and regulations, no matter what we want to believe. I thought you would want to know, that’s all.”

She leaves, and Potts stares after her, uncomprehending.

He would want to know… what?

That in a few short days, the government would officially consider Stevens to be dead?

That people would start acting like he really was dead?

Impossible, Potts tells himself.

Stevens isn’t dead.

He can’t be.

This is all some horrible nightmare. Any minute now, he’s going to wake up back in Stevens’ apartment. He’ll roll over to see Stevens lying there beside him, and he’ll kiss him awake. Maybe he’ll even try cooking again, something simple this time.

Any minute now he’s going to wake up, because this can’t be real.

Stevens can’t be dead.

Stevens promised he’d come back, and when he made that promise, it sounded like he was promising a lot of other things, a whole life together, and Potts is only beginning to realize how much he desperately wants it.

Stevens can’t be dead, because Potts is only now realizing how much he loves him, because Potts doesn’t know what he would do with himself if Stevens were really gone.

It _can’t_ be.

Potts sniffs and scrubs at his eyes, fighting against a swell of emotion that threatens to overwhelm him. He doesn’t have time for that now - he has work to do. 

They want to say that Stevens is dead - well, that’s just not true, because he promised he’d come back. Potts makes a promise in return - he won’t ever give up on Stevens, he’ll turn over every stone if only because it’s what Stevens would do for him. 

They want to say that Stevens is dead - well, the only thing left for Potts now is to prove them wrong.

***

The next day, Potts hears the shouting before he knows what it means. What he does know is that SHIELD agents are not prone to such random outbursts without good reason, so he grabs his revolver and leaves the workshop for the first time in days, heading cautiously towards the commotion. Someone rushes past, and Potts startles, his breath catching in his throat. His heart pounds in his chest, but he can’t say what he’s afraid of as he turns the corner into an open courtyard.

It’s crowded, filling up with people by the minute as everyone tries to figure out what is going on.

“He’s back!” Potts hears, “Someone get the directors!”

“Sorry,” Potts says, tugging on the man’s arm, “who’s back?”

“The missing Captain, haven’t you heard?” the man says, straining to get a better look. 

Potts doesn’t need to hear any more. He stumbles forward, his breath loud in his ears as he pushes through the crowd, until he breaks through and _there he is_.

Stevens is at the center of it all, a whole troop at his back, all of them looking worn and ragged and a little worse for wear, but gloriously _alive_.

“ _Stevens_ ,” Potts breathes, and Stevens looks up, their gazes locking across the crowd.

Stevens smiles, and Potts feels himself smiling back, and it’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders, like the sun breaking through the clouds. Stevens smiles, and Potts knows then that he’d go to the ends of the earth for this man, because Stevens smiles and he’s _home_.

***

Stevens and the others are sent straight to medical after the chaos caused by their arrival begins to die down.

Potts drops everything and follows them, charming his way past the nurses. He knows full well that he’s got no reason to be there, but he goes anyway and ignores the knowing looks cast in his direction as he pushes his way to Stevens’ side.

“Captain,” he says, breathless with relief.

To see Stevens laid out on the cot like that - bruised and battered and weary - it feels _wrong_ , and Potts has to fight the urge to take Stevens in his arms and feel for himself that he is really here, alive and well. Instead, he grabs a spare cloth and dabs at the worst of the dirt and grime on Stevens’ face, trying to keep his fingers from trembling.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I mean, aside from the obvious. Do you need anything? Some water, maybe? I could have someone get something for you…”

“Doctor,” Stevens interrupts, his fingers closing over Potts’ wrist, and Potts freezes, his eyes on Stevens’ face, because the other man is all but holding his hand. It’s a gesture that seems far too intimate in a public place, but Stevens does not seem at all inclined to stop. He squeezes Potts’ hand, his eyes soft as a small smile plays over his lips.

“I’ve got everything I need right here,” Stevens says.

Potts smiles back at him, threading their fingers together deliberately. So what if the others see - he thought he’d lost this man forever. He’s going to damn well show him everything he feels, for the rest of their lives, if Stevens will let him.

“Me too.”

***

They put Stevens on two weeks of mandatory leave, probably because they know full well that otherwise he’d never “take it easy” on his own. It’s not as bad as Stevens feared, being grounded - he spends his days painting and reading, and his nights wrapped up in Potts as they grow closer, learning how they fit together.

He gets used to waking up next to Potts, loving how the other man always looks adorably rumpled in the morning, his hair a mess of curls as he blinks awake. He gets used to the way Potts putters around the kitchen barefoot in his sleep shorts and one of Stevens’ tees, half- awake until he finds the coffee. He gets used to the way the Doctor’s projects seem to migrate home with them, so that Stevens ends up finding them on the kitchen counter, on the couch, and on one memorable occasion, in the bathroom.

He never gets used to how _easy_ it is, being with Potts. He thought it would change everything, being together romantically, but it hasn’t. They still bicker constantly at the slightest provocation, they still get in each other’s faces if they need to, they are still the first person the other seeks out if they need a shoulder to lean on.

Stevens supposes the truth of it is that they were always this close, as friends and as partners. In reality, nothing has actually _changed_ between them, now that they’re together - it’s just... better. More.

And really, it’s only fitting that once he’s starting to _enjoy_ being on leave, it’s time to head back. Back to work, back to SHIELD, back to the real world.

Potts just chuckles at his grumbling and pulls him in for a kiss.

“It’ll be just like old times, you’ll see,” he says.

And he’s right - Stevens fits right back in, going on missions with Potts at his side. It’s like everything is back to normal. 

The only trouble is, every time he looks over to see Potts standing there with his floofy hair and that ridiculous beard, a smirk playing over his lips as he slides on his huge glasses, Stevens is left breathless as a rush of desire slams into him. 

He tries to ignore it - he is a SHIELD agent, after all, he’s got important work to do - but whenever he thinks of Potts, he has trouble thinking of anything else.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Stevens says as Potts pulls him aside one day, looking up and down the hallway before pushing him into a nearby supply closet.

“Mmmm,” Potts hums, his breath hot against Stevens’ lips as he pulls him close, his hands sliding deftly into his pants to tug his shirt free.

“You know what’s ridiculous?” Potts asks, his hands firm as they squeeze and massage at Stevens’ ass. “You are, darling.”

Potts nips at Stevens’ lips, teasing, and Stevens groans, shuddering as heat rushes through him. His hands tight on Potts’ hips, Stevens backs him up to the nearest table, things falling to the floor with a clatter as he sets Potts down.

“I think we’re… both a little ridiculous,” Stevens pants between kisses, working on the other man’s shirt as Potts wraps his legs around his waist, rocking into him.

“ _Shit_ ,” Potts moans, his fingers tight on the nape of Stevens’ neck as Stevens mouths along his collarbone.

Stevens chuckles, pressing his lips to the corner of Potts’ mouth. “Language, Doctor,” he says, and Potts rolls his eyes before pulling him back in.

“You’re such a troublemaker, Captain,” Potts tells him fondly, his eyes bright as he looks up at him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Stevens freezes as the words catch up with him, and he’s realizing that they’ve never _said_ them to each other, not out loud. They’ve shown it in a hundred small ways, every day, but they’ve never actually said it, until now.

His heart pounding in his chest, Stevens takes Potts’ face in his hands. “I am,” he agrees. He kisses him, soft and sweet, trying to give the other man a taste of everything he makes him feel.

“I love you too,” Stevens says. 

Potts smiles into their kiss, and it feels like a new chapter, a new beginning, the start of the rest of their lives. Stevens knows that whatever comes, they will face it together, Captain Stevens and Doctor Potts.

***

F I N

***

  
  
  
by @colonelrogers on tumblr/@colonelrohjaz on twitter  
  
  
****

**Author's Note:**

> I spend most of my time yelling about stevetony on tumblr. Come say hi! I am [@captain-stevens](https://captain-stevens.tumblr.com/). I would love to take prompts - stop by my inbox if you have an idea!
> 
> I also have a ko-fi - please consider donating [here](https://ko-fi.com/tony_starkrogers) if you enjoy my work. Thanks for reading! <3


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